ola

Most people, when they go to Mexico, can´t stop pooping.

I had my first poop as a married woman a few hours ago.

We´re at an all inclusive resort in Puerto Nueva, or Nueva Vallarta, or something near Puerto Vallarta, but with ´Nuevo´instead of one of those words (Joel says it´s NV). We´ve been lying around, eating and drinking and not wearing watches, and never knowing what time it is. Since there´s only half an hour in the day where you can´t get something to eat, and only about eight seconds where you can´t get a drink, this hasn´t yet presented a problem.

We´ve also spent a fair bit of time laughing at those people, you know the ones who can´t sunscreen themselves properly and end up with white handprints on burnt flesh, tiger stripes, and singy agony. Today, we became those people. It seems that 5 hours of sun, in the middle of the day, WILL in fact break through your paltry spf 15 defenses.

No internet in resort, this will probably be my only blog. See you when I get back.

Joel would like to add that he has had four kinds of meat for every meal thus far.

Insta-photo

- Hey babe!

- Hey! I got my hair run-through done today!

- Cool! Are you going to have it up for the rehearsal tonight?

- Yeah! You wanna see it?

- Of course!...Can I see it now?

- Um...sure! I'll blog it!

It's a beautiful age we live in, folks.

Fun like vacuuming

I know that there are some people who spend years planning their weddings, and I know I have no right to complain, but MAN! I can't wait til it's all over (the planning, not the wedding). Just now, I'm more excited to be done with minutae than I am to be getting married. Babe, I swear that'll change by Saturday.

Planning a wedding was fun for about five minutes. I'm pretty sure I was trying on a dress in those minutes. Much of wedding planning is dull for the participant (me), and cannot be made interesting for the voyeur (you). The reason there hasn't been many wedding posts is because they would sound an awful lot like 'Today I tried to finish up that damned seating plan, and to make it jive with the list of people I have who are attending, so that I could (a) give the reception hall FINAL final numbers (these are different from the 'final' numbers we gave a week ago), and (b) so that I could be sure everyone has a seat. Counting a hundred-odd-plus of ANYthing is tedious, but names on a computer screen is pure eyesore death. Add to that the fact that each time I count, I get a different number, and you have me up waaaaaaaaaay past my bedtime, swearing my heart out.' No one wants that.

Instead, I will give you a sample of the stock blogs I will be auto-posting while on my honeymoom: 'Spent day on beach. Read several books. Had steak and bellinis. Wish you were here.' I haven't found the 'auto-post' button yet, but I'm sure it's here somewheres.

Only skin deep

On your wedding day, not much of your actual skin is showing. The majority of your flaws can be safely hidden under a tuxedo or voluminous dress, and all you really need to worry about is your face and (for the gal) your arms.

Joel has a flesh wound on his face he's hoping will heal by this Saturday.

For myself, I'm hoping this happy little character makes a discreet exit.

There may be a lot of photoshopping done.

Under the Aquarium Lid

Joel never lets me name any of his fish, even though;

A. I have awesome names for fish. Like, a while ago, before we realized what a trial salt-water concoctions are, we were talking about him getting a puffer fish, and I thought 'The Hindenburg' was a wikked name. He also had two of those fish, the ones that suck all the other fishes' waste products from the walls and that look like tiny eel-sharks, and I wanted to call them Flotsam and Jetsam. He ended up naming them...something else.

B. Everything he's ever named has died (except for Yuppy, the current guppy, but he hasn't been around long enough to count, and besides, Joel will probably forget to ask someone to feed him while we're on our honeymoon, and he'll be done for) and the one 'fish' that I named (Ninja, the snail. ROCK ON, NINJA! TAKE NO PRISONERS!) is still alive and well after more than a year. Joel wants to get rid of him because he (allegedly) poops too much. I think he's being eaten up by the knowledge that all of his slippery creatures will die untimely deaths until he lets me get a seahorse and name it Seabiscuit. I thought of that one just now. See? I'm awesome.

Transition...

I've been struggling with writing this post. Not the content, per se, but the tone. How do you follow up what amounts to an obituary?

When someone dies, even if you've never met them, you feel compelled to honor their life somehow. Perhaps it is a sort of penance for being here, for being alive when they aren't.

I don't really deal with heavy issues here on the ole citrus. I like my blog to be being flippant and witty. The blogs I enjoy reading (for the most part) are flippant and witty.* I'm too cowardly to wrestle with most of my issues in a venue this public, and then there's always the awkward transition from frolicsome to sombre and back again.

So consider this my segue blog. Neither one nor the other. Maybe tomorrow I'll tell you a tale of the Clarences, or about how Joel never lets me name any of his fish.

*I do appreciate the occasional 'weighty' blog, like when the defective yeti speaks of his autistic son, or when Hannah's adoption dreams hit another hitch, or pretty much everything September's ever written, because it is then that I feel that this blogging thing that we do, it might be worth something.

Temporary

This is James, and his girlfriend, Kim. James is a friend of mine from college. We used to play poker and smoke cigars together. I never met Kim.

A week ago, there was an avalanche in northern BC. Kim was killed.

I'm sorry, James, that I never met her. If you loved her, she must have been something special. My heart is with you now.

To everyone else, remember that you are temporary.

Reasons why Joel is cute

I can always tell when Joel is studying and/or on the Internet for long periods of time, because he sends me e-cards, random quotes, and funny pictures. I can picture him reasoning to himself thusly:

'I have been working steadfastly for many hours, and could use a break. I believe I will send an e-card to my significant other, because I recognize that frequent contact is how she receives love. In this way, I will productively kill five minutes of time.'

I remember being in college (like, a year ago, already), and thinking to myself:

'I have written a slip-shod introductory paragraph to this paper, which will later require some harsh, quasi-thorough 3 am editing. It is time for three consecutive games of Spider Solitaire.'

This is Joel as a mad scientist (read: during midterms)

house and home

Eating Chipits straight from the bag + watching 'The Last Ten Pounds' = doing pilates in your room later.

In other news, my sister found Joel and I a place to live! Check it out, it's perfect! It's a bacthlure suite between Frasher and Main, and there's no smokeing or peys! Which is awesome, because I hate both those things.

I'm a post!!

April fools! I have nothing interesting to say.